


Under My Skin

by heros_wings



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heros_wings/pseuds/heros_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changmin and Yunho are the sexiest idol duo in Korea, with a reputation for having a deep and inseparable bond. The only problem: they hate each other. The obvious solution to this problem is to have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Want Me

The most vivid memory Changmin had of being a trainee was the day Yunho looked him in the eye and growled, "If you came here to play around, just quit now."

 

Two years later, his company announced he would debut.

Nervous but excited, he was the first one to arrive in the room, where he was told he would be meeting his partner.

When Yunho strolled in, Changmin's heart dropped. Slow, disbelieving horror washed over him.

Oblivious, one of the company producers beamed as Yunho sunk into the chair furthest from Changmin.

"You two are debuting together."

Their eyes met.

"We're going for a sexy concept," the man continued, dollar signs gleaming in his eyes as he looked between the two. "We'll start off more innocent, because of your age, but eventually..."

The rest was lost on Changmin. All he saw was Yunho's stare, and a single...quirked...eyebrow.

Changmin could practically hear him thinking: _'You haven't quit, yet?'_

 

After three years, Changmin still dreamed about that look.

He repeated those words,   _'...just quit now'_ in front of cameras and fans, with Yunho next to him, eyes cold, body stiff, as he smiled and answered with quips of his own, squeezing Changmin's thigh so hard he left bruises.

Yunho brushed past him backstage.

Irritated, Changmin sped his pace and knocked into him so he stumbled forward.

He smirked over his shoulder.

"Changmin-ssi," an anxious staff member jogged to keep up, the top of his head barely reaching Changmin's shoulders, "please don't—"

Changmin ignored him and stalked into the dressing room marked, _TVXQ._ Yunho followed close behind, and slammed the door shut.

There was soft _thump_ , as the poor staff member hit it.

"You have 10 minutes before we have to leave for your next schedule," their manager said through the door, sounding bored.

"Don't break anything," he added as an afterthought.

Changmin clawed at the buckle of the leather collar and chucked it at the mirror.

There was a loud _clack!_ as the metal tag with "Max" engraved in it hit and dropped to the makeup counter.

Shoulders tensing, Yunho removed the leather jacket and carefully draped it over the back of the couch. His jaw muscles clenched when Changmin kicked a nearby chair and flung his wrist cuffs across the room.

Variety shows were always Changmin's own personal hell — pretending Yunho was a loving _hyung_ he looked up to and adored and probably let fuck backstage after concerts...

Because that was their concept: sexy, devil-may-care bad boys, who cared about no one else but each other, and had some unbreakable bond.

Changmin hated it.

He hated Yunho. Hated their concept and the pandering and the stupid leather pants he'd been forced into the moment he became 20,  because there were legal limits on how much a company could sexually exploit a 17-year-old...

The thing he hated most was playing the part of the submissive, starry-eyed _kid_ to Yunho's dominant, mature, masculine sex god.

"How many times are you going to tell that story?" Yunho asked, tugging off the thin black shirt that matched Changmin's white one.

Changmin pulled his shirt over his head, nearly tearing it in two, and threw it at him.

"Until they let us disband," he growled.

The most irritating thing about Yunho was his guise of never-ending patience. Changmin did everything he could to crack it — sometimes he did. Sometimes he was able to pull Yunho's temper out of him...make him yell and curse and break things.

It was the only time Changmin didn't hate him.

But outside of their apartment...in front of staff, cameras, managers, fans, other celebrities, friends, and family...Yunho was a bright, cheerful, engaging personality.

It pissed Changmin off.

When Yunho opened his mouth, Changmin thought, with heart-racing certainty that this time...this time he'd done it...Yunho was going to yell and the staff and everyone walking by their dressing room would hear it—

A sharp knock, followed by their manager's voice ordering them to hurry, forced Yunho's mouth to snap shut. He turned his back, and finished changing, oblivious to the wave of disappointment flowing off Changmin.

They said nothing to each other as they were ushered through the mob of fans, and into the van for their next schedule.

"Yunho-ssi, please tell us more about your concept for this album." A reporter for _Star Magazine_ sat across from them shortly after their photoshoot finished.

Changmin was still wearing eyeliner and a ridiculous skimpy black outfit, while Yunho sat next to him in a perfectly tailored pinstriped suit, and his golden brown hair falling stylishly out of his ponytail. He was supposed to have the image of a handsome idol-like chaebol, while Changmin was dressed as his “pet."

"S and M," Yunho replied calmly. A smirk tugged the corner of his lips, but he held it in check. "We've always had that dominant and submissive dynamic in our relationship, but we wanted a more mature, risqué concept...one that had never been done before."

Changmin seethed silently next to him, glowering at an invisible spot on the table. It was a fucked up concept. They went from playing the roles of a bookish High School boy and a charming University student, to...this...

He had almost quit when their producer waltzed into the meeting with a big, smarmy grin.

_"It will be like a more tasteful 50 Shades of Grey...the fans will love it!"_

And they did.

_Bonds_ had been in the number one spot on the weekly album chart for two weeks.

"We thought it was a good, sexy title that also highlighted our close relationship," he heard Yunho's rehearsed answer and fought back a snort.

"What about you, Changmin-ssi?" The reporter turned to him.

He hadn't been listening, so he just smiled and leaned into Yunho so their shoulders pressed together. "I agree with Yunho-hyung."

Yunho rolled his eyes, and Changmin was spared from answering questions the rest of the interview. Sometimes being the “submissive” had its benefits.

 

Afterwards, their manager insisted they needed to be seen getting along. In public. Because they had to reinforce the "close relationship" they'd conned their fans into believing.

"Just because..." Changmin slurred, gripping his 6th shot of soju, "...we're forced to live and work together doesn't mean I have to like you."

Yunho nodded in agreement, cradling his own shot.

Sighing, their manager drank his soju straight from the bottle with a look of deep regret that he hadn't quit yet.

"It's been three years...just _try_ at least."

Changmin lifted his head, and Yunho did the same. Their eyes met. Instant animosity sparked between them. Changmin scowled.

"No."

Defeated, their manager downed the rest of his drink and ordered three more.

"Why do _I_ have to be the sub?!" Changmin complained loudly, slamming his...10th...11th...possibly 12th shot on the table, earning disapproving stares from the other patrons.

"Because..." Yunho mumbled, face planted into the table, tteokkboekki stuck in his hair. "You're the youngest."

"I'm taller," Changmin scowled, plucking the rice cake from Yunho's hair and flicking it away.

Exhausted, their manager nodded, nearly toppling off his plastic stool. "Good...good...you're talking tha's good..."

They ignored him.

Yunho lifted his head, chin still resting on the table, his eyes locked on Changmin's.

"You couldn't top me."

Changmin's eyes darkened.

"You sure about that, _hyung_?"

 

Changmin didn't remember getting into a taxi. But he was shoving Yunho through their apartment door, kicking off his shoes, and growling, "I could top you."

He watched Yunho freeze, half bent over, reaching to take off his own shoes. His shoulders tensed.

"No you couldn't."

Changmin could hear it: the challenge, the anticipation, the wariness. All rolled together in a husky voice that danced along his skin and sent shivers down his spine.

He curled his fingers into the back of Yunho's jacket, and leaned forward. Pressing his lips to the shell of Yunho's ear, he repeated his words from earlier, "You sure about that... _hyung_?"

The sharp intake of breath made Changmin smirk. He pressed his body against him, cock hardening at the image of Yunho writhing under him, losing control under his hands.

"Knock it off, Changmin."

The restraint in his voice only spurred him on.

He reached around and cupped the bulge through Yunho's jeans, feeling him harden under his touch.

"I don't think you want me to."

Yunho broke away, spun, and shoved Changmin into the door, one arm across his chest. His free hand gripped Changmin's hair.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. But everything felt right. The prickling pain. The way his cock throbbed and strained against his jeans. How he could feel Yunho...hard...tense...shaking...

"You're fucking drunk."

Changmin smirked. "Scared?"

Scowling, Yunho tightened his grip. He gasped. Pain mingled seamlessly with pleasure.

He needed this. Needed Yunho.

A restrained sound caught in the back of Yunho's throat. He ducked his head, hot breath panting against Changmin's neck as he grinded into him, cocks dragging against each other through the fabric. Satisfying and completely unsatisfying all at once.

"Shit..." Yunho breathed against his neck.

The grip on his hair loosened.

Changmin shoved him away, grabbed his arm, and he threw him into the door. He smirked. _This_ was how he wanted to see Yunho — front pinned to the door, one arm trapped in a vice grip behind his back as Changmin grappled for the other.

He locked both of Yunho's wrists behind him.

"Afraid of losing your image?" Changmin  growled in his ear, grinding his hips into him.

The sounds he pulled from Yunho were more intoxicating than the soju still coursing through his veins. He released Yunho's wrists. Rather than pushing him away, Yunho braced himself against the door, as Changmin's hands slid across his front. One hand played across the zipper of his jeans, as the other travelled under his shirt.

"We both know," he purred, nipping at a spot just below Yunho's ear. "You're no top."

His fingers ghosted over a nipple.

Yunho's moans vibrated against his chest as he pushed his hips back. Changmin's control began to unravel.

What other sounds could he pull out of him? What else could he do to make Yunho thrash and beg for him to take him? Hard and fast against the door with nothing but a dry, rough drag as Changmin forced himself inside...

He could feel Yunho shaking. His breaths coming in short, staggered gasps. It made Changmin want to destroy him. He wanted Yunho to fall apart. He wanted to leave marks that only he could see. Ones that Yunho would feel forever...

"Fuck—" Yunho gasped as Changmin bit down on a small patch of exposed skin "—you."

"I can stop..." he licked the reddening spot and sucked the flesh into his mouth as he traced his finger along the waistband of Yunho's jeans.

He popped the button and drew the zipper down. "Just say the word..."

He tugged the jeans off.

"No?" Changmin asked teasingly, pulling gently on Yunho's briefs.

Yunho cursed again and canted his hips back. The feel of his cock against Yunho shattered the last of his control.

He tugged down the briefs and wrapped his hand around Yunho's cock. He thrust against him, matching his movements with each impatient stroke.

He traced his fingers along Yunho's bottom lip, and gasped when a tongue darted out to wet them.

The sound Yunho made when he sucked two fingers into his mouth was fucking sinful.

He was going to come undone. Unravel before Yunho.

That couldn't happen.

He pulled his fingers away. Without warning, he pushed a single finger in.

It was too tight...too dry...

Yunho cried out and tried to move away, but Changmin shoved him back into the door.

"I told you..." he thrust a second finger in, "you're no top."

Yunho let out another shout. No longer trying to move away, but pushing back, forcing Changmin's fingers deeper.

"Don't move..." he ordered, relishing the way Yunho whimpered when he removed his fingers.

He slowly backed away, and just as he ordered, Yunho didn't move. Changmin took a brief moment to appreciate the sight in front of him: Yunho with his forehead resting against the door between his arms, shoulders moving with each heavy breath, ass bare with his jeans around his thighs.

He reached for his bag that lay abandoned by their feet in the entrance, and took out a small tube of hand lotion.

He pulled his jeans down just enough to free his cock, and slicked himself up, not caring that Yunho wasn't stretched enough. He wanted to feel everything Yunho could give him — every stretch and tremor — as he inched his way inside.

"I still—" he pressed into Yunho "—fucking hate you."

And he slammed in. Buried deep, Yunho crying out underneath him. His knees buckled, but Changmin held him up, using his grip to pull Yunho against him. Deeper. Faster.

He was tight. The lotion did little to ease the drag as he pulled out and thrust back in.

He set a furious pace, fucking Yunho hard into the door, pulling incoherent moans and whimpers from his throat.

Each sound drove him closer to the brink of insanity.

He wrapped his fingers around Yunho's cock and stroked.

If he died like this...it would be enough.

He looked between their bodies.

The sight of himself sliding in and out of Yunho...knowing he was coming undone beneath him... _because_ of him—

Changmin came hard and fast, white exploding behind his eyes as he filled Yunho with his release.

Yunho continued thrusting into his hand, breaths coming in short gasps.

Still buried deep, Changmin pressed Yunho into the door.

"Come for me..." he breathed.

Yunho moaned and thrust harder into Changmin's hand.

_"Hyung."_

With a strangled cry, he coated Changmin's fingers and their front door.

Weak, Yunho slid to his knees, head pressed against the door, panting.

"You fucking brat..." he murmured tiredly, eyes closed.

Feigning indifference, Changmin tucked himself back in, and wiped his hands on his jeans. It was sheer stubbornness that kept his own knees from giving out.

"I told you I could top you," he breathed before staggering to the bathroom to wash up, leaving Yunho slumped against the door.

The sobering part of his mind told him they'd just made a huge mistake. Something irreversible. A thing, unlike snide remarks and spiteful words, they could never undo...

The other part...the part that replayed images of Yunho's flushed face and parted lips, when he closed his eyes...had him longing for more...


	2. You're My Slave

The next morning, other than the small feeling of satisfaction at slight limp in Yunho's step, nothing changed between them. Yunho had cleared his throat awkwardly when their manager mentioned it, but Changmin shrugged and made an offhand comment about him practicing choreography in the shower and probably pulling a muscle. The glower Yunho shot him behind Kyung Min made him smirk back.

"Sore, hyung?" he asked innocently as the stylists fluttered around them, battling stray hairs with spray and gel, and straightening wrinkles in their stage outfits.

Yunho glared at him through the mirror, where his own stylist was trying to cover the beauty mark above his lip under a pound of makeup.

Changmin frowned, suddenly annoyed.

Before he could stop himself, he strode over, ignoring his stylist's distressed, "Changmin-ssi I have to pin..."

She trailed off as he stood on the other side of Yunho, opposite of the coordi-noona who was adding more foundation to her brush.

Without looking at her, he licked his thumb and rubbed off the makeup, revealing the mark again.

Yunho jerked away from Changmin, eyes wide with shock. They looked at each other through the mirror. The shell-shocked stylist stood on the other side, makeup brush hovering over her compact. She caught the eye of the stylist standing just behind Changmin, cheeks pink, eyes wide.

"Leave it," he said, eyes never leaving Yunho's.

She opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it when Changmin fixed her with an icy glare.

"TVXQ, 5 minutes! Please head to standby!" A PD stuck her head into the room before disappearing again.

Kyung Min strolled in, phone to his ear. "Ready, boys? No mistakes...we have to be out of here for _Weekly Idol_ and a radio show."

"Is food or sleep anywhere in this schedule of ours?" Changmin muttered under his breath.

He thought he heard Yunho stifle a laugh, but when he glanced over his shoulder, Yunho's face was carefully blank.

The deafening screams of their fans exploded in his ears the moment they walked on stage. After bowing and asking for their passionate support during recording, Changmin adjusted the headset and turned to stand opposite of Yunho.

He could see the beauty mark on his lip under the blue and red lights. A shiver ran down his spine.

The director started counting down and he reached his arm out to place his palm on Yunho's exposed chest. Just like the choreography demanded.

The heavy bass boomed through the speakers. He was supposed to push Yunho away and step backwards. Instead, he dug his nails in, smirked, and dragged his hand down, leaving marks, before shoving him away and beginning the first refrain.

The song was about a breakup. The man was supposed to be aggressively pursuing the "girl" who broke up with him, as she refused all of his attempts until finally taking him back.

It was all very overdone and cliché and more than once Changmin asked himself what girl would take back a guy who was, in his opinion, stalking her.

But he didn't make the rules. He wasn't even allowed to cut his hair without permission.

So he sang the ridiculous lyrics, letting Yunho grab his arm and jerk him forward until their faces were inches apart. Just choreography, he reminded himself, when Yunho's fingers tangled through his hair.

It was nothing more than a performance when Yunho jerked his head to the side, creating the appearance of him kissing Changmin's neck as the lights cut.

It was all fake. Choreography. Fan service. And even though he knew all of this, his skin still pebbled like Yunho's mere proximity was the same as coming too close to a lightning strike.

Their fans were going wild. The lights brightened again, and the staff scattered, readying cameras and equipment for their second recording as the director shouted, "10 minutes!"

Changmin turned his back on the audience and took a deep breath. Warmth spread dangerously low through his gut.

Yunho put a hand on his shoulder, drawing more screams from the fans.

His cock twitched.

Fuck.

His breathing hitched when he felt Yunho's hot breath against his ear. He felt like he was suffocating and drowning and running full sprint all at once.

"Something wrong, _dongsaeng_?"

Changmin clenched his teeth against the teasing tone, and forced his shoulders to relax. Yunho's hand felt like it could burn through his jacket.

They'd practiced this choreography over a hundred times. They performed it at least once a day for two weeks. He shouldn't be acting like this.

"Nope," he replied coolly, shrugging the hand off and moving away as the stylists converged on them again.

During the third and final recording, Yunho jerked his head to the side, fingers twisted through his hair. The stage lights cut, and lips pressed against his neck.

He felt Yunho smirk, then nip lightly at his skin. His stomach tightened when a tongue darted out to lick lightly at the spot. His gasp sounded through the speakers. That was definitely not part of their choreography.

When the lights brightened again, Yunho stepped away as if nothing happened, smiling cheerfully at the wide-eyed staff and screaming fans, thanking them for their hard work and support, leaving Changmin hot and fighting the arousal coiling through his stomach.

They entered the dressing room, and Changmin wanted nothing more than to kick everyone out and slam Yunho against the door.

"We have to be at _Weekly Idol_ in an hour," Kyung Min said, checking his watch as he strode through the door.

Changmin pulled off his shirt and threw it into a nearby chair, leather pants still uncomfortably tight.

Yunho's eyes caught his over Kyung Min's shoulder. The intense look sucked the air out of his lungs. He let his gaze flick down, and saw a hardened bulge.

He swallowed. Yunho was fucking with him...

When their eyes met again, Yunho's gaze was full of mischief. He knew. He knew what he was doing to Changmin and he was fucking _enjoying_ it.

Kyung Min threw a shirt at him, forcing him to break eye contact. He ordered them to stay in the matching leather pants, and they would change shirts once they got to MBC.

 _Weekly Idol_ was as miserable and embarrassing as Changmin expected. They'd put the collar back on him, and dressed Yunho in a simple v-neck and leather jacket. Which should have been fine. And it was...until they were forced into a ridiculous "couple" game that had Changmin rolling an orange up Yunho's body.

When his lips brushed across Yunho's jaw, they dropped the orange.

By the time filming ended, Changmin was wound so tight, even Kyung Min kept a respectable distance.

Fucking Yunho...

He scowled, nearly punting a staff member out of the way when the poor man tried taking his mic.

 _He_ seemed perfectly at ease.

Changmin glowered over his shoulder as Yunho stopped and politely handed over his own mic.

Why was _he_ the only one fighting an erection in too tight leather pants?

More than once Changmin had tried and failed to make Yunho's professional facade waver — a light touch on the neck, a tight squeeze of the thigh. Changmin had made a point of touching Yunho whenever he could and the bastard hadn't given him so much as a professionally endearing smile.

Why did he even care?

He kicked open the dressing room door.

He didn't.

He knew last night was...a onetime thing. They were drunk and he was pissed and wanted to prove a point.

Yunho followed in after him and quietly shut the door.

And he had.

He proved he could top Yunho. He proved that he wasn't the submissive _child_ their fans thought he was — the one his company wanted him to play.

He reached for the stupid collar, vowing to destroy it permanently this time...

There was a faint _click_ of a lock.

And then a hand was jerking him back by the collar.

"Keep that on," Yunho whispered into his ear, before tossing him onto the couch, and straddling his waist.

"What the fuck have you done to me..." he breathed, nose buried in Changmin's neck, fingers hooked into the front of the collar, before Changmin could even utter a protest.

He could feel Yunho’s arousal pressing against his stomach.

He bit back a moan when Yunho’s tongue darted out and licked around the edge of the collar.

“Don’t you dare leave a fucking mark,” he growled.

Yunho nipped and sucked at a spot just below the collar in response, pulling a reluctant moan from his throat.

He chuckled. “Too late.”

Changmin shuddered. Yunho’s voice took on the same deep, husky tone it had last night. Only this time _he_ was in control…

And he couldn’t let that happen.

 _Yunho_ was supposed to be the one falling apart under his hands. His voice. His everything.

"...hate you..." he gasped even as his hips rolled into Yunho's.

"Want you..." Yunho breathed in his ear, voice deep, fingers working at his belt buckle.

Changmin's cock throbbed painfully as Yunho quickly discarded the belt, and slipped down his body.

He wasn't in control...

Yunho settled on the floor between his legs, nose nuzzling his zipper.

...Yunho was...

Their eyes met — dark, hooded, pupils blown...

The sound of his zipper seemed to echo in the too-quiet room.

He had to take back control. He couldn't let Yunho—

Hot fingers wrapped around him.

He gasped.

—control...

Yunho stroked. Slow, deliberate movements, made to drive Changmin right to the edge but not over.

He threw his head back against the couch as a calloused thumb ran over the tip of his erection.

Biting back a moan, he reached for something — anything — to hold on to...

His hands found Yunho's hair and tugged.

The sound that came from Yunho was one he had never heard before. He did it again, searching for that sound. Needing to hear it.

Another sound escaped Yunho's throat as he pressed his lips against the tip of Changmin's erection.

His moan was cut off by a sharp knock on their dressing room door, and the sound of someone jiggling the handle.

Changmin froze.

Yunho jerked back, panic and fear in his eyes, but Changmin's hold on his hair tightened. There was a thrill — an excitement — knowing someone standing just outside the door...

"Yah!" their manager's annoyed voice shouted from the other side, "we're late! Hurry up! Why the fuck is the door locked?"

Yunho released him and tried to stand, but Changmin pushed him back down.

He smirked at Yunho's confused, terrified, expression.

"Sorry, hyung!" he called back, guiding Yunho back down.

He glared up at Changmin, expression clearly reading, _I will kill you if we get caught._

"We'll—" he gasped as Yunho licked up the shaft and tongued the slit, lapping up the clear fluid "—hurry!"

Yunho smirked and wrapped his hand around the base, stroking up as he wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked.

It was all so wrong...

He lifted his hips, slipping deeper into Yunho's mouth.

If someone walked in...

Yunho hummed, flattened his tongue, and moved down.

...if their manager somehow found a way to unlock the door...their careers were over.

Pleasure coiled and tightened in his stomach. He thrust up, forcing himself further down Yunho's throat.

Yunho gagged, and glared up at him, pink lips stretched, skin flushed.

Changmin couldn't even feel bad about it.

"You like it," was all he said, as he moved his hips again, keeping Yunho still with the grip he still had in his hair.

He was in control...

Yunho was on his knees in front of him. With his cock down his throat.

So why...

His stomach tightened.

...why was he the one shaking...

Yunho grabbed his hips, held him still, took him completely...and swallowed.

His hand flew to his mouth, muffling his moan as he came.

...why was his mind the one scrambled with a million different thoughts, when it was Yunho who was supposed to be feeling these things...

Yunho released him. He sucked lightly on the tip again, drawing out another moan.

Changmin hated him.

His heart shouldn't have been a wild, hammering mess...

He shouldn't have wanted more. He shouldn't have fixated on the beauty mark just above Yunho's lips.

He shouldn't have reached for Yunho's shirt, and pulled him up, even as their manager shouted through the door again.

And he definitely shouldn't have kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to Boonies, whose Jaechun/2U drabble gave me the idea for the beauty mark scene ;)


	3. You've Fallen for Me

Weeks of hectic schedules, and nothing but hurried hand jobs in any secluded corner they could find, Changmin was sure he was slowly going insane.

They never talked about it.

Never said anything before or after. It was just an automatic, unspoken...something.

Something Changmin couldn't put into words. It drew him to Yunho's lips when they were able to sneak away. It made him crave Yunho the same way an alcoholic craved their favorite drink...

And it all felt so...dirty — _wrong_ — like he was breaking some unspoken taboo: don't fuck your band mate. And especially don't fall for him. 

And Changmin wasn't. 

He wasn't falling. 

He was just...busy. Which made sex kind of an inconvenient thing to find.

Yunho was convenient.

The moment he thought it, he knew he wanted more: smiles and gentle touches and words of affection. He wanted to hear Yunho say his name with warmth in his voice, between kisses and gasps and moans. Changmin wanted all of him. 

He had somehow engraved his presence in Changmin's life so deeply that when he had made a solo TV appearance that day, he found himself glancing around the studio, looking for a familiar smile, listening for a voice he'd heard moan his name, reaching for a knee that wasn't there...

He entered their apartment, exhausted, twitchy, and hungry...

He was really fucking hungry.

Knowing there was still a slice of stolen strawberry cake left from Kyuhyun's birthday party, he toed off his shoes and flung his bag onto the armchair as he passed the living room.

He stomped into the kitchen, thinking about cake and a shower and sleep and—

—Yunho.

He froze in the entrance of their kitchen. It was almost one in the morning, what the fuck was Yunho doing in their kitchen. 

In his boxers.

Eating Changmin's cake.

His eyes narrowed.

The bastard had plucked the strawberries off the top. Leaving nothing but cream and cake and the thin slices of strawberry from the middle. And from the looks of it, Yunho had already dug one out.

Eyes wide, fingers covered in the white, sugary evidence of his crime, Yunho's excuse was cut short with a sharp gasp when Changmin snatched his wrist and wrapped his lips around his fingers.

His cock strained against his jeans as he released Yunho's fingers with an indecent slurp, and slammed their lips together. He ran his hands across Yunho's stomach, loving how warm and smooth the skin felt beneath his fingertips.

He moved them around until he had Yunho pinned against the edge of counter next to the destroyed cake.

"My—" he licked at Yunho's lips, tasting the sweetness "—cake."

Each staggered breath sent a jolt through his veins. Yunho was moving his hips into Changmin’s, his hands fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, moaning when Changmin’s mouthed at his throat.

“You ate—” another gasp “—my ice cream.”

He grinned. Yeah...he kind of did.

Unrepentant, he swiped his finger through the icing, and pulled Yunho's boxers off his hips.

Yunho's eyes widened as Changmin dragged his cream-covered finger up his cock.

"Let me pay you back," he whispered against Yunho's lips, before sinking to his knees.

He'd only done this a couple times. Still, he licked up Yunho's length, lapping up the sweet cream, full of confidence.

Yunho moaned above him as he grabbed on to the counter to keep himself up. "Fuck, Min-"

Smirking, Changmin wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and licked experimentally around the head — salty and sweet mixing together in what was uniquely Yunho's taste.

Yunho began to shake. His breaths coming in staggered and uneven gasps as he tangled his fingers through Changmin's hair.

He hummed around Yunho's cock, and slowly relaxed his throat, taking him as deep as he could before pulling back again.

This is what he wanted.

He swirled his tongue around the head, before once again taking Yunho into his throat, deeper this time, moaning when Yunho cursed and tightened his grip.

He wanted slow. Wanted agonizing need. He wanted Yunho to beg for him. Want him. Love him...

He swallowed as Yunho came down his throat.

But he wasn't falling.

He kissed and licked his way back up Yunho's chest, slowly rising to his feet.

Their eyes met.

Shit...

He crashed his lips against Yunho's and dragged him through the apartment.

He was falling...

They tumbled ungracefully to Yunho's bed.

Hands rummaging through the bedside table, he searched for the thing he knew was there...

...orphan bottle caps, sheets of crumpled paper, pens....

"Do you never clean this thing?" he grumbled, finally finding what he was looking for.

"Really?" He held up the red tube, eyebrow raised.

"I like strawberry."

"You need a twelve step program."

Grinning Yunho reached behind Changmin's neck and dragged him down for a kiss.

"You going to complain or fuck me?"

Changmin slicked his fingers and pressed inside. He didn't see why he couldn't do both.

"You owe me a slice of cake."

"You owe me an entire carton of ice—" he gasped as Changmin pressed in a second finger and stretched him wide.

"You would be such a shitty top," he teased.

Yunho grinned and angled his hips so Changmin slipped deeper. "You need to stop reading manga..."

He reached up and curled his fingers through Changmin's hair, forcing him down for another kiss. "It's not that I _can't_ top you Changmin-ah..."

The endearment sent sparks and fireworks and an overwhelming sense of _mine_ through his entire being: his nerves, his bones, his muscles and heart — _everything_.

Yunho rolled his hips into his touch, and whispered against his lips, "I just love having you inside me."

Fuck everything.

Changmin stripped and fell on top of him, trying to sink into his skin. Wanting to kiss the last remaining breath from his lungs.

The first time he had Yunho under him, it was rough and quick and Changmin had filled him with years of loathing.

Not this time...this time he wanted to feel every inch of himself slipping inside. He wanted the heat to surround and suffocate him...

Yunho wrapped his legs around his waist and dug his heels into his back with a demanding, "Now or never, dongsaeng."

He grinned against Yunho's lips and pulled away. The warm feelings of affection were unfamiliar and confusing and terrifying, but none of that mattered the moment Changmin sunk into him. Hot and tight and his.


	4. You're Crazy Over Me

Their eyes met in the mirror of their dressing room. Beyond the door, they could hear the bass and muffled singing coming from the stage.

They were still in full stage makeup and the shining leather pants pooled around their ankles as Changmin slid in and out of Yunho with quick, impatient thrusts. The slap of skin on skin mingled with their heavy breaths and stifled moans was a melody they could never create on stage.

Their already ruined hair stuck to their faces, and the silk fabric clung to them like a second skin. He could see Yunho's hand wrapped around his cock, his other hand planted on the makeup counter next to an overturned bottle of lotion.

Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips to Yunho's ear.

"...hyung—"

With a strangled cry, Yunho coated the counter with his release.

A faint knock came from their dressing room door.

Changmin's stomach tightened, fingers digging into Yunho's hips.

"10 minutes before encore!" their manager shouted. "And please at least pretend you like each other!"

Changmin came. Hard and fast, vision blurring, world flipping.

He slumped against Yunho's back, barely catching himself on the counter, trapping Yunho between his arms.

"I fucking hate it when Hyun Bin touches you," Changmin panted into the back of his neck, tiredly rocking his hips, still nestled inside.

He couldn't see Yunho smile, but he heard it in his voice. "It's part of the choreography."

Changmin lifted his head and glared at Yunho through the mirror. They were both total wrecks — hair clinging to their faces, clothes rumpled, lips swollen...thoroughly and completely fucked.

Yunho stared back, expression blank.

"5 MINUTES!" Kyung Min shouted, pounding on the door. "What the fuck are you two doing? And stop locking these doors!"

Slowly, reluctantly, Changmin pulled out of Yunho and watched as he tugged his pants on before straightening completely. Changmin pulled on his own pants, hating how the thin fabric seemed to prickle along his too-sensitive skin.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion. One Changmin had spent years degrading and calling juvenile when he witnessed it in his friends and especially their fans.

Well fuck it.

Changmin was jealous.

He walked forward and forced Yunho to lean against the counter.

“Do I belong to you?” Yunho asked with a tired smile as Changmin wedged one leg between his and leaned down for a kiss. He brought his hand up to brush Changmin’s bangs away from his face.

He froze. Lips hovering inches from Yunho's. A fierce, unyielding _yes_ on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it.

When he scowled, Yunho just chuckled and ruffled his hair, expression warm.

"There's only you, Changmin-ah."

Something inside him shattered. Then fused itself back together into a thing that looked at Yunho and knew this was all Changmin would ever need to survive.

He pulled Yunho into a kiss to keep himself from uttering the words that wanted to escape.

He couldn't say them. Not to Yunho. Not even to himself. Not yet.

Yunho smiled against his lips as Kyung Min pounded on the door again.

They were late for the encore.

Neither seemed to care.

Grudgingly, Changmin let himself be dragged away by Kyuhyun and Minho, as Yunho was pulled the other way by Boa and Donghae. Even as he walked down the long side stage, waving to fans with one arm around Kyuhyun's shoulders, he never lost sight of Yunho.

After bows on stage and off, obligatory pictures with fellow celebrities, bloggers, reporters, friends, and friends of friends, they headed to the restaurant for the after party.

All Changmin wanted to do was go home, wrap around Yunho, and sleep until noon.

"If you stare any harder at Donghae, he’ll burst into flame," Kyuhyun muttered in his ear.

Changmin scowled and downed another shot of soju as Minho glanced worriedly at Kyuhyun.

The first thing Yunho did when they arrived at the restaurant was start his rounds visiting every table. Drinking and laughing and touching....

He slammed his glass down on the table as Yunho now leaned into Heechul's shoulder, laughing as he retold the story about Yunho's girlfriend breaking up with him after mistaking Heechul for a girl.

Fine.

_Fine._

Two could play this game.

He slid over to Minho's side of the table.

Kyuhyun watched across from them, laughing as Changmin glued himself to Minho and poured another round of drinks.

Visibly uncomfortable, Minho shifted. "Hyung—"

Changmin clicked their glasses together and took a shot. He poured himself a second...then a third before Minho even finished his first.

He glanced over his shoulder.

Yunho was staring at him, eyes steely, jaw tense.

Changmin smirked.

He turned back to Minho and Kyuhyun, who were watching the interaction with equal looks of confusion.

"Are we missing something?" Kyuhyun asked, glancing over Changmin's shoulder. "I feel like we're missing something..."

"Did you and Yunho-hyung fight?" Minho tried.

"We always fight," Changmin replied, pouring another drink. He missed the glass.

Funny...he could see two in front of him...

He squinted and tried to pour again, when a hand reached over his shoulder and grabbed the bottle from his hand.

“Hyung has the van outside,” was the only thing Yunho said, before pulling Changmin to his feet.

The room spun, and a firm arm wrapped around his waist as he was lead out to the van.

He heard a few shrieks — fans — flashes of bright white light — fan cameras — and someone shouting for no pictures  — probably Kyung Min — before the van door slid shut.

“Well…” Kyung Min sighed as he slammed his own door shut and started the engine. “On the bright side, the fans got pictures of you taking care of him…”

Changmin flopped over so his head rested in Yunho’s lap. He smiled when he felt fingers carding through his hair and heard the soft hum vibrate from Yunho’s throat.

 

The next morning, Changmin woke up with his head trying to split itself in two, and his stomach twisting itself into a thousand knots. And he was wrapped around something...someone.

He slowly opened his eyes and winced. The room was dim, with the morning light barely filtering through the blinds, but it still felt entirely too bright.

Yunho lay curled against him, face buried in his chest, trapped in a tangle of limbs. Changmin didn’t even know which room they were in…

He stared at Yunho’s sleeping form. Memorizing the soft lines of his face, the way his lips parted slightly, how his long bangs fluttered with each breath…

He wrapped his arms tighter around Yunho’s waist, hands slipping beneath his shirt (they were both still wearing last night’s clothing), and glided his hand across the smooth skin of his back.

Yunho shifted under his touch with a soft groan.

Grinning, he ran his hand up Yunho’s spine.

Yunho moaned again and tried to roll away. “Stooop,” he whined.

He pulled Yunho tighter against him and pressed his lips to the base of his neck. “Hungover....”

His mouth felt like cotton and his voice croaked unattractively. He wished they could just lay in bed the rest of the day.

“We have a photoshoot today,” Yunho replied, chuckling a bit. The warmth in his voice loosened the knots in Changmin’s stomach.

He mouthed at the spot on Yunho’s neck as his hand began to wander lower, fingers slipping just under the waistband of Yunho’s jeans. “Cancel…”

As if their manager heard him, Yunho’s phone rang from somewhere in the room. Reluctantly, Changmin let him go to answer it.

“Yes…” he heard Yunho reassure Kyung Min on the other end. “He’s fine....just a headache...yes…”

Changmin watched as Yunho leaned tiredly against his desk. Slowly he began to recognize the disorganized desk and clothes-strewn floor — they were in Yunho’s room.

When he finally hung up, he turned back to the bed but kept a reasonable distance to avoid being pulled back down.

Changmin scowled.

“We have to be ready in an hour,” he said.

Head still aching, stomach still churning unpleasantly, he groaned and buried his face in the pillow. He breathed in Yunho’s scent — rain and fresh linen and something flowery he couldn’t quite place. His head cleared just a bit, but his limbs became heavier, unwilling to move away.

The bed sunk as Yunho leaned over him and pressed a soft kiss against the back of his neck.

“Hyung is bringing us soup,” Yunho murmured against his ear, before pressing another soft kiss against his neck and standing.

Changmin turned his head to watch Yunho move towards the door.

“Hyung…”

Yunho stopped and turned to look at him, head tilted in silent question. The gesture was so innocent and child-like, he couldn’t keep the swell of affection growing in his chest.

The words were on the tip of his tongue again. He swallowed them down. Locked them away for another time or maybe forever.

“...never mind.”

 

After forcing down a bowl of hangover soup, Aspirin, and water, he was feeling a lot less like death by the time their photoshoot started.

They were dressed in pin-striped pants and black shirts — Yunho with a suit jacket that had a leather collar and metal studs, and Changmin in a shirt with a gold-studded collar and a pin-striped vest. They wrapped a sheer black fabric around him like an overly long scarf, covering his mouth and eventually winding around his wrist. Silently, the stylist handed the end to Yunho.

The concept was supposed to be a boss and his “assistant.” So Yunho sat in a leather office chair, legs spread, Changmin sitting between them, his head resting back on his lap as they both looked down at the camera. He shifted as the photographer instructed, resting his head on Yunho’s knee, moving to Yunho’s right side, freeing one wrist, and wrapping an arm around his calf like some possessive cat. All the while, Yunho keeping a hold of the fabric that was supposed to represent a leash.

A weird stir coiled low in his stomach. He began imagining having Yunho tied up...writhing underneath him...begging as he rode him…feeling Yunho inside him...

He took a deep breath and tried to refocus. But now the fabric was too scratchy against his skin...his pants too tight...Yunho’s knee too warm...

And since when did he start fantasizing about—

"Changmin-ssi..." the photographer's voice drew him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head and forced a polite smile. "Sorry."

"We're going to take a short break to change outfits and sets."

Nodding, he stood and practically flew to the dressing room, pants uncomfortably tight.

Yunho followed at a slower pace, a knowing smirk on his lips as they stripped and changed into traditional suits.

Once they were back on set Yunho stepped close and placed his hand on the small of his back as they watched the staff move a desk and bookshelf into place.

“Glasses suit you,” he muttered in his ear.

Changmin swallowed and clenched his fist. Yunho was teasing him.

“Fucker,” he growled.

Chuckling, Yunho drew back as they were called on set.

The photographer asked Changmin to hold Yunho’s tie like he was tightening it. It was supposed to be a gentle, submissive gesture, with Changmin’s eyes diverted and Yunho looking down at him.

Instead, Changmin’s eyes locked with Yunho’s. He tugged roughly on the tie and smirked when Yunho jerked forward with a startled shout.

“Um...Changmin-ssi…” the photographer stared blankly at them from over his camera. “The concept…”

“Lee-ssi…” he addressed the man, tone polite but eyes never leaving Yunho’s. “Have you ever heard of switching?”

“S-switching?”

His smirk deepened and he tightened his grip on the tie. Yunho’s eyes widened.

“I’m always the submissive role…” he glanced over his shoulder now to look at the man, and in his most convincing, innocent voice, added, “don’t you think it will be more interesting to switch our roles?”

He could see his words working on the man as he spoke — eyes widening, smile sliding in to place...it was the same look their producer gave them when they first announced their album concept.

“Yes...yes! Excellent idea!” He scurried forward and changed their positions, so Yunho was half-sitting on the desk, and Changmin was now leaning over him, knee resting on the desk between Yunho’s legs, tie still in hand.

When Kyung Min and the other staff members asked what was going on, he waved them off.

“This is going to make my career…” he breathed, camera snapping with enthusiasm.

By the end of the shoot, it was _Yunho_ who had kicked everyone out of their dressing room and slammed Changmin against the wall.

“Switching, huh?”

Changmin only smirked and dance a teasing finger across his zipper.

A sharp knock on the door made them spring apart, but there was a look of promise in Yunho’s eyes that sent an anticipating shiver down Changmin's spine.

When no one was looking, he slipped the sheer fabric into his bag with an inward grin.


	5. You Can't Escape

Something wasn't right...

That was the first thing Changmin noticed. Still half-asleep, eyes barely open.

He remembered going to bed...pissed that Yunho had gone out drinking with his ridiculous "85-line" friends and left him home. Alone. Still reeling from their earlier photoshoot and an unfulfilled promise.

He had tossed and turned with images of the girls Yunho's friends were probably throwing at him, encouraging him to bring home...

So when a weight settled on his stomach, and something lifted his hands, he began to stir. A familiar soothing voice followed by a soft kiss of familiar lips made him still.

 _Yunho_.

The anger slipped through his fingers like the finest sand, and suddenly there was nothing but lips on his and warm hands against his skin.

He smiled into the kiss, and tried move his arms so he could wrap them around Yunho, but something tightened around his wrist. A soft, silky fabric...

His eyes snapped open.

Yunho was above him. Shirtless. Changmin caught a glimpse of a mischievous grin before something slipped over his eyes, and his vision went black.

He jerked his head to the side and bucked his hips, trying to throw Yunho off. A hand slapped lightly at his thighs — his bare thighs. He'd definitely gone to bed in a pair of sweats.

His heart jumped into his throat.

"Hold still..." Yunho muttered, tightening the knot at the back of his head too roughly.

His cock twitched, and he scowled. "Untie me."

Even behind the blindfold, Changmin could clearly imagine Yunho's smile.

"No."

With a growl, Changmin tried throwing him off again, but a hand on his hip pressed him into the bed as Yunho trailed white hot kisses across his chest and stomach. He wanted — _needed_ — to feel more of Yunho, but he kept his body carefully tilted away, only allowing Changmin to feel lips on skin.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked, voice strained, arms pulling at the silk again.

"Whatever I want, Min-ah."

His stomach tightened. Yunho's playful smile was so clear and easy to see in his mind's eye.

He wanted to see Yunho's lips pressed against his skin, his pupils blown, and skin flushed pink. But the sound of Yunho's kisses echoed through the nothingness in front of him. Yunho's fingers felt hot around his cock, and the roughness of his jeans made his skin prickle.

It was fucking euphoric. Exciting in a way that Changmin had never imagined.

"What about—" he panted, feeling Yunho shift down.

A hot, warm tongue licked up his cock.

"—friends..." he finished incoherently as Yunho wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked.

Fuck he wanted to see. He wanted to touch.

He wanted to bury his hands in Yunho's hair and see his lips stretched, pink and wet around him. He needed to see it. Needed the image to anchor him to the earth, because without it — with nothing but the feel of Yunho's mouth and hands — Changmin knew he would go insane. He would lose himself in the feel of Yunho's touch, and the sounds of Yunho's mouth on him.

He couldn't let himself fall any deeper. It was too terrifying. He'd already fallen too far, too fast.

Yunho's heat left him. There was a rustle of clothes, then the bed dipped again and Yunho's mouth was on him.

"What was it you said earlier?" he asked, kissing the bend of Changmin's hip, "switching?"

He moaned and tugged at his restraints, shoulders aching, stomach twitching as Yunho kissed his way up to his lips.

His pulse sped. Panic and anticipation washed over him as Yunho pushed his knees up and dragged a single, dry finger across his entrance.

The sound that left his lips was one he'd never thought he could make — full of need and an eagerness he never felt before. Full of things he never thought he _could_ feel. Especially with Yunho.

"F-fuck...hyung..."

Yunho hummed, slipping his finger down again. Changmin could feel it pressing against him.

He strained against the fabric holding him to the headboard. It dug into his wrists. Pulled at his shoulders until the pain became almost too much.

The tip of Yunho's finger pressed inside him. It was dry and uncomfortable and fuck he was going to lose his mind—

He wanted more. Wanted Yunho to press deeper inside him.

"So impatient..." he chuckled when Changmin lifted his hips with a moan.

The distinctive _pop_ of Yunho opening the bottle of lube cut through the room. Nervous, excited, Changmin tugged on his restraints again.

A cold finger pressed inside him at the same time Yunho's lips touched his, swallowing his gasp.

It was a sensation Changmin never imagined. The only thing he could grit out was, "more...fuck...more hyung..."

He rocked his hips, silently begging.

A second finger entered him. Spread him slowly.

"Who would have thought..." Yunho pumped his fingers, movements slow and unhurried, "such a bottom," he teased.

"Fuck—" he gasped as Yunho's fingers dragged out of him and slid back in, sending a tremor of pleasure through his body that settled low and warm in his stomach, "—you."

He was on the edge. Toes curling, stomach tightening, cock throbbing...

Another chuckle. "Not tonight, Min-ah."

Yunho pulled away, leaving him empty and twitchy and wanting — _needing_ — more. He gently pushed Changmin up, easing the strain on his shoulders.

"Ready, _dongsaeng?"_

"Fucking do—" he cut off with a gasp as Yunho pushed his knees up and pressed in, impossibly wide. Everything felt like it was on fire — his skin burned wherever Yunho's lips touched; the feel of Yunho inside him pushed him to the edge of his own sanity...

"Are you ok, Min?" Yunho's voice was laced with concern.

Changmin opened his mouth for another "fuck you," and growled, "Faster."

Chuckling, Yunho continued to move slowly — agonizingly — working his way in, making Changmin feel every, wide, thick inch of him.

He pulled against the restraints as Yunho rocked slowly, pulling out almost completely and sinking back in.

He gasped. Moaned. Cursed. If there was pain, he couldn't feel it beyond the pleasure of being full and wonderfully stretched around Yunho.

Too-hot fingers wrapped around him and stroked.

"—fold—" he gasped as Yunho sunk into him at just the right angle, brushing across the bundle of nerves that sent prickling pleasure across his skin, "—see—" he moaned when Yunho hit the spot again, "—let me see...hyung let me see you..."

Shaking, Yunho tugged roughly on the blindfold so it hung around Changmin's neck.

Their eyes met. Changmin could see Yunho's hair plastered to his face, breathless, lips parted—

He spilled. Covering his stomach and Yunho's fingers with his release.

At the same time, Yunho sunk deep inside and came.

Vision blurry, mind whirring, Changmin still managed to growl out, "untie me."

Yunho did.

His hands found Yunho's hair and jerked him down for a kiss. All teeth and tongue and _fuck_ the world could end that very moment and he wouldn't care.

Exhausted, he wrapped his legs around Yunho's waist as he slipped out of him.

When Changmin rolled them over to spoon against his back, Yunho muttered, "shower..."

Changmin held him tighter, legs trapping Yunho around his waist. His body was too heavy, to wonderfully sated to move.

"Sleep."

And because, even during the years of open hostility, Yunho could never say no to Changmin, he just sighed and shifted deeper into his hold.

"5 minutes and then I'm going to shower."

They slept until the sun crept over the horizon and Yunho's phone rang shrilly with Kyung Min's usual morning call.

Unmoving, Yunho mumbled, "5 minutes...." and fell back asleep.


	6. I've Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it's so short...I planned for the last chapter to be short since the beginning since it was originally just an epilogue, so forgive me ._.

"I'm pretty sure this isn't how you're supposed to eat ice cream," Changmin gasped as Yunho's tongue dipped into his bellybutton and lapped up the last of the vanilla and strawberry swirl. 

He felt Yunho grin against his skin. "It's the best way."

The night had begun innocent enough — fully clothed, freshly showered, curled together on the couch with a pint of strawberry-vanilla ice cream, and Yunho's movie choice: _Love Actually_.

Because apparently even in August, there was nothing like a Christmas movie.

Yunho spooned the first bite of ice cream into Changmin's mouth. One bite became two, then three, and soon Changmin was laying naked on the couch with Yunho licking ice cream off his stomach.

A cold, slick finger pressed inside him.

He cursed.

"You can't use ice cream as lube..."

Yunho smiled beautifully at him. "Want me to stop?"

He pressed deeper and Changmin lifted his hips with a sound only Yunho would ever hear — full of need and want and _why aren't we fucking already—_

"I'll kill you if you do..." he managed to grit out.

Yunho slowly pumped one finger in and out of him. The drag burned and the ice cream was making a sticky mess all over their couch, but Changmin couldn't bring himself to care.

He fought back a disappointed whine as Yunho pulled back.

Grinning, Yunho ordered him to turn on his stomach.

Changmin only obeyed because he wasn't thinking clearly...because Yunho was looking at him, lips parted, eyes blown...and because he was finding it harder each day to deny Yunho _anything_.

He turned over slowly, the cool leather dragging across his cock. He glared over his shoulder, only to see Yunho's grin widen, and his eyes flash with a kind of mischief that had Changmin regretting and anticipating everything that might come next.

He watched as Yunho reached over to the coffee table and took another bite of the mostly melted ice cream.

"What are you—" he broke off with a gasp as Yunho dipped his head.

A cold tongue gently touched his entrance.

"Oh... _fuck,_ " his head fell forward against the armrest and he lifted his hips, but Yunho pinned him down.

Changmin began to shake as shocks of pleasure ran up his spine. The cold lasted only seconds — disappearing as Yunho prodded inside him, licking and teasing.

He ground his hips into the couch because he had nowhere else to go. Yunho had him pinned, alternating between licks up his cleft and kisses scattered across his back.

"Min-ah..." Yunho murmured into his skin, adding another kiss to the small of his back.

His finger slipped inside again, then a second. Changmin was going to lose his mind. From the touching. The kisses. Yunho.

"Min-ah," Yunho repeated, spreading his fingers as he moved up and pressed another kiss just behind his ear.

Changmin moaned because that was the only sound he was capable of making. He lifted himself to his knees and wrapped his fingers around himself.

Lips pressed to his ear, Yunho whispered, "I'm glad you didn't quit."

Electricity shocked through his spine, his stomach tightened, and he spilled over the couch.

Gasping, he fell back against Yunho to avoid the mess.

"I'm not cleaning that up."

He felt Yunho grin against his neck as he pulled his fingers from him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Changmin could feel his erection through his jeans.

Weak, but still reeling, he fought his way out of Yunho's arms and pulled him up from the couch, their lips meeting the moment Yunho stood.

"Bed," Changmin murmured against his lips, dragging Yunho into what had slowly become _their_ room, and gently guided him down to what was now _their_ bed.

He straddled Yunho's waist and continued to kiss him in slow, languid, movements, trying to put everything he had into a single kiss.

He smiled against Yunho's lips and pulled away. The sight in front of him was one he would remember even in his next lifetime — Yunho with kiss-swollen lips, flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and nothing but unwavering affection for him...

The warmth in Changmin's chest was becoming more familiar now. Less scary and more exciting. Associated with soft touches and sweaty skin and Yunho's smile. So he let the words slip from his mouth between kisses, because that's where they belonged.

Later, when they were spent and sore and wrapped securely around each other, Yunho murmured, "love you too, Min-ah."


End file.
